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Tuesday, 31 October 2017
Gap Years. Essential?
The Gap Year has now become standard, coming of age, practice.
In my day there was really no choice. You either went directly to University, or directly to work; I chose the latter.
These days no self respecting school-leaver would dream of doing either. They're off to India, on to Oz, buy a van, pick some fruit, get arrested, pick more fruit, on to Thailand, phone home for money; and when they realise that 5 years have somehow flitted-by, make one final grasp at freedom by staying in a squat in Paris. Then, and only then, when the Euros have completely run dry (and parents refuse to cough-up any more), will they finally make for home.
All three of my children took time off to travel, and all three returned wiser, more independent, and focused.
Above is Junior Magnon (the last to travel) with his lovely Swedish/Russian girlfriend (now my daughter-in-law), Kellogg, photographing themselves somewhere (in their van) in Oz.
I have only one gripe with the Gap Year ethos; it tends to teach children that the only time to contact parents is when you're BROKE.
The difference between an optimist and a pessimist, is that the optimist enjoys himself whilst waiting for the inevitable! I AM that optimist!
This is a daily, optimistic, 'photos and comments' blog. I make no judgements (only occasionally), just notes. If you wish to comment in any way at all, please feel free. Everything and everyone (except the obdurate and dictatorial) is very welcome.
I was born just south of London, but for the past 50 years I've lived in S W France. I am a painter by profession, and writer by desire. Lady Magnon and I live between an ancient cottage in a tiny village in perfectly tranquil French countryside, and a bijou townhouse in Brighton UK. In France we have plenty of fruit trees, all situated amongst a view that takes the breath away, in the UK we have a handkerchief sized patio. We also have a Border Collie called Billy. I try to treat our planet with respect, and encourage others to do likewise (without preaching).
Contentment is a glass of red, a plate of charcuterie, and a slice of good country bread. Perfect!